Saturday, August 27, 2011

‘Spiral: Perspectives on an African-American Art Collective’ Studio Museum Harlem


In his 1903 masterpiece The Soul of Black Folks W.E.B. Du Bois expounded his famous concept of the ‘double consciousness’ of African American citizens in the book’s first chapter On Our Spiritual Strivings:
After the Egyptian and Indian, the Greek and Roman, the Teuton and Mongolian, the Negro is a sort of seventh son, born with a veil, and gifted with second-sight in this American world,--a world which yields him no true self-consciousness, but only lets him see himself through the revelation of the other world. It is a peculiar sensation, this double-consciousness, this sense of always looking at one's self through the eyes of others, of measuring one's soul by the tape of a world that looks on in amused contempt and pity. One ever feels his twoness,--an American, a Negro; two warring souls, two thoughts, two un-reconciled strivings; two warring ideals in one dark body, whose dogged strength alone keeps it from being torn asunder. The history of the American Negro is the history of this strife,--this longing to attain self-conscious manhood, to merge his double self into a better and truer self.

African American artists—especially those highlighted in ‘Spiral: Perspectives on an African American Art Collective’ at the Studio Museum in Harlem—inherited the same veil of consciousness, the same second-sight but instead applied to their roles as artists in an overly represented white artistic community.  ‘Spiral’ contends with individuals whose consciousness extended—and merged— their identity as African Americans, Modern artists, teachers and civil rights activists. As Du Bois trenchantly examined sixty years before ‘Spirals’ existence, African American artists in America negotiated their own ‘twoness’ as black, as artists, and as black artists.  
‘Spiral’ was a short lived African American art collective active from 1963 to 1965.  Founding members constituted the vanguard of mid-century African American Modernism including Romare Bearden, Charles Alston, Norman Lewis and Hale Woodruff. Membership eventually spread to Emma Amos (the sole woman of the group), Calvin Douglas, Perry Ferguson, Reginald Gammon, Feirath Hines, Alvin Hollingsworth, William Majors, Richard Mayhew, Earl Miller, Merton D. Simpson and James Yeargans. Discussions in the group centered on the intersection of art and politics: what role does race play in the evaluation of their artwork? What role does subject matter play in their work? How can abstraction add a significant voice to the civil rights struggle? How should artists of color construct and maintain their identity in an overtly racist America, including the art world? The ‘Spiral’ artists came to the group at a crossroads in their careers. Bearden had begun to experiment with a collage aesthetic for which he would become famous while Norman Lewis, Hale Woodruff and Charles Alston had already been painting in Abstract Expressionist inspired styles throughout the forties and fifties.
Romare Bearden formed the original group in 1963 to discuss artist’s roles in the upcoming ‘March on Washington’ led by Dr. King. Soon the group’s membership expanded and installed itself at 147 Christopher Street for weekly meetings. ‘Spiral’ –the name was suggested by Woodruff as a reference to the Archimedean spiral that moves outward, embracing all directions—had a single exhibition in their Christopher Street location First Group Showing: Works in Black and White in 1965. First Group Showing—many of the paintings in the inaugural show can be viewed in the current exhibition—constitutes a fascinating exploration of social change embedded in the medium of painting. ‘Spiral’ limns  every Modernist tactic—abstraction, social realism, collage, printmaking, black and white chromatic reduction, protest art—into a single artistic consciousness devoted to liberation for all. Emily G. Hanna—a curator at the Birmingham Museum of Art where ‘Spiral’ first was exhibited—quotes the original show’s catalogue:
We, as Negroes, could not fail to be touched by the outrage of segregation, or fail to relate to the self-reliance, hope, and courage of those persons who were marching in the interest of man’s dignity…if possible, in these times we hoped with our art to justify life…to use only black and white and eschew other coloration. This consideration, or limitation, was conceived from technical concerns; although the deeper motivations may have been involved…what is important now, and what has great portent for the future, is that Negro artists of divergent backgrounds and interests, have come together on terms of mutual respect. It is true to their credit that they were able to fashion art works lit by beauty, and of such diversity.


Black and white serves as multiple metaphors in 'Spiral's' sole exhibition. By ‘eschewing other colorations’ ‘Spiral’ artists demand that the viewer look at the quality of the work, not the ‘color line’ in which artworks—and people—are often viewed. Black and white has a rich tradition in Modern painting—Pollock and de Kooning had recently experimented with their own chromatic reduction—that is radically de-segregated by the ‘Spiral’ artists. No longer would Modernism be the sole provenance of white Europeans—who had quietly carried off most of its formal language from anonymous African artists—and their progeny. Instead the ‘Spiral’ artists would speak with their own pictorial language. Operating from a unified consciousness ‘Spiral’ members were not disenfranchised U.S. citizens in search of hand out exhibitions from the establishment but singular artists operating out of strength and conviction. The fact that the artists of ‘Spiral’ chose painting, collage and printmaking—seen from the 70s onward as hidebound and conservative—is a testament to the contribution these artists made to mid-century artistic practice as well as a singular contribution to the advancement of civil rights in America. Perhaps the history of the American Negro—and the African American artist—was the history of strife. Certainly the time period of ‘Spiral’ was riven with change. Today it is the work of these artists that stands testament to their achievement, works lit by beauty, and of such diversity.    


Norman Lewis 
Bonfire, 1962
Oil on canvas, 44 ¼ x 56 in.


Romare Bearden
Conjure Woman, 1964
Photo projection on paper, 64 x 50 in.
 
Charles Alston
Black and White II, c. 1960
Monoprint on rice paper, 48 x 36 in.


Hale Woodruff 
Africa and the Bull, c. 1958
Oil on canvas, 44 ¼ x 52 3/4 in

Emma Amos
Godzilla, 1966
Oil on canvas, 50 x 46 in

Norman Lewis
Untitled, 1964
Oil on paper, 19 x 24 in.


Merton D. Simpson
Untitled (Angry Young Man), 1965
Oil on canvas, 30 x 20 in.

Hale Woodruff
Portal, n.d.
Oil on canvas, 42 3/8 x 32 in.
The Studio Museum in Harlem

Richard Mayhew
West, 1965
Oil on canvas, 54 x 46 in

Wednesday, August 24, 2011

‘Pointing a Telescope at the Sun’ Minus Space

Five painters are represented by five small acrylic paintings at Minus Space’s ‘Pointing a Telescope at the Sun’. Minus Space, a gallery founded by artists Matthew Deleget and Rossana Martinez in 2003, aims to bring attention to reductive, minimal artwork at an international level. Currently housed in an out of the way closet in south Brooklyn, the exhibition ‘Telescope’ showcases five New York painters and teachers who work with intense prismatic color arrangements. Color serves as the loadstar of the exhibition, tethering each distinctive painting to the exhibition. Balancing the zealous use of color, each artist employs their own personal compositional strategy in order to harmonize and ground each work.
Vincent Longo’s work combines Mondrian’s early light infused landscape color with his later bold geometric abstraction of Broadway Boogie Woogie. In Longo’s small Four Time pink and powder blue lines intersect across a foam green background. Douglas Ohlson, who died in 2010, juxtaposes high keyed color with solid bars of paint. Ohlson’s PU-011 places blue, pink and tan bars into a graphic note-like formation across the canvas. Sanford Wurmfeld continues the modernist tradition of full immersion into a colored atmospheric visual field. Represented in this exhibition by a small canvas, his larger work are part James Turrell and a systematized version of Monet’s late nymphĂ©as. Wurmfeld’s II-27#1+B (V-RO/N-Y) uses the grid as compositional balance and subtle tonal gradations of color to connote shifts in light and perception. Gabriele Evertz’s Untitled contrasts one half of her canvas with grey and black to another with lime, pink and orange. Employing stripes in her work, Evertz balances strong prismatic colors with a compositional discipline. Robert Swain’s purple painting Untitled begins with small, comma like brushstrokes in the bottom right-hand corner of the canvas that spread out into larger, fatter marks as they proceed across the upper left-hand side.
‘Pointing a Telescope at the Sky’ exhibits five painters who balance self-imposed compositional restraints with color abandon. Each painter uses a compositional strategy—grids, repetitive mark making, stripes—with liquid, sun soaked color. These artists formed a nucleus of painters at Hunter’s MFA studio art program, furthering the teaching tradition of Joseph and Ani Albers, two artists who themselves struggled to balance form and feeling in their work. Much like Albers’ Homage to the Square, these artists employ geometric structure with hot house colors.  Reductive in form, these artists, like Albers, use color as a means of expansion.


Vincent Longo, Four Time, 2006, Acrylic on Panel 16 x 12 inches  
Doug Ohlson, PU-011, 2004-2006, Acrylic on Canvas, 26 ¼ x 24 1/8 inches 

Sanford Wurmfeld, II-27#1+B (V-RO/N-Y), 2006, Acrylic on Gesso Primed Cotton 18 x 34.5 inches 

Robert Swain, Untitled 7-25-6 x 11-25-6 x 23-25-6, Acrylic on Canvas  36 x 36 inches 

Gabriele Evertz, Untitled, 2011, Acrylic on Canvas over Panel, 18 x 18 inches


Thursday, August 18, 2011

Frans Hals in the Metropolitan Museum


For the moment Frans Hals is a New York painter. The Metropolitan Museum—the Beaux Arts behemoth—acquired eleven of his autograph paintings from de-accessioning Robber Barons back in the gilded age. Hals’ work was seen at the time as emblematic of Anglo-American artistic practices of the time—think of the tonal and subject matter similarities of his work to William Merritt Chase, Whistler and Mary Cassatt. Reliving our own gilded age—with our very own Robber Barons—Hals’ work seems relevant and fresh. Unlike the quietude enveloped domestic altarpieces of Vermeer, the Tolstoyan compassion of Rembrandt or the superman verisimilitude of Rubens, Hals’ drinkers sit in our taverns, his businessmen work in our establishments. Hals’ paintings—or the feelings they evoke—were painted by our artists.
                Born in Antwerp in 1582 or 1583—possibly to Catholic parents—his family fled to Haarlem, where the artists lived and worked for the remainder of his life. A homebody—Hals never visited Italy, then the center of the artistic universe and traveled little to the other provinces of Holland—Hals acquired what he needed mainly from Flemish artists and imported prints. What set Hals apart—and what makes the Metropolitan’s collection significant—is his treatment of genre scenes like the Merrymakers at Shrovetide seen in the exhibition. Depicting a couple at a carnival celebrating the eve of Lent, the artist has encoded numerous carnal references in the still life arrangement in the form of sausages, mussels and flaccid bagpipes. Hals’ bravura Young Man and Woman in an Inn (“Yonkers Ramp and his sweetheart”) similarly uses two young profligate children toasting in a tavern as an allegory of Spanish oppression of the stout Dutch burghers.
Smaller paintings in the exhibition depict portraits and dazzling displays of technique like The Smoker. Walter Liedtke, in the catalogue accompanying the exhibition, mentions how Hals’ depiction of a young man smoking was meant to warn viewers away from the 17th century (!) thinking concerning the dangers that accompany tobacco such as illicit lovemaking, drinking and harm to your body. Aside from sexual innuendo, moralism and paid for hire portraits (like the jewel compression on display in Petrus Scriverius and its pendant Anna Van der Aar) certain paintings illuminate a humane person behind Hals’ incessant bonhomie. Two paintings no longer believed to be authentic Hals—Malle Babbe and Frans Hals—remain in the exhibition. Malle Babbe—the name is a Dutch equivalent of ‘Mad Meg’—is a copy of an original painting still existent of a woman housed in the psychiatric infirmary where Hals’ cognitively disabled son, Pieter, also resided. Frans Hals is a small copy of a lost self-portrait that meets the visitor as they begin the exhibition. Malle Babbe—the owl on her shoulder was a symbol of folly—and the small, broken self-portrait cast an air of sadness and personality over the exhibition of so much drinking, carousing and masters of the guard.  
                Frans Hals’ paintings came to New York City at a time much as ours—despoiled, profane and cacophonous. Hals’ painting—quicksilver fast, grey, bawdy and grim—fit our time. Looking skyward is not in Hals’ frame of vision. Portraits, genre scenes of taverns, fisher girls and drinkers, Hals work is the voice of the middle class triumphant.  


Style of Frans Hals (Dutch, second quarter 17th century)

Copy after Frans Hals (Dutch, 17th century) probably 1650s

Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) early 1650s

Paulus Verschuur (1606–1667) Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) 1643

Portrait of a Bearded Man with a Ruff  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) 1625

Petrus Scriverius (1576–1660)  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) 1626

Anna van der Aar (born 1576/77, died after 1626)  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) 1626

Boy with a Lute Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) ca. 1625

Portrait of a Woman  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) ca. 1650, reworked probably 18th century

The Smoker  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) ca. 1625

Young Man and Woman in an Inn ("Yonker Ramp and His Sweetheart")  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) 1623

Merrymakers at Shrovetide  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) ca. 1616–17

The Smokers  Adriaen Brouwer (Flemish, Oudenaarde 1605/6–1638 Antwerp)  probably ca. 1636
Study Head of an Old Man with a White Beard  Anthony van Dyck (Flemish, Antwerp 1599–1641 London) ca. 1617–20

Portrait of a Man, possibly Nicolaes Pietersz Duyst van Voorhout (born about 1600, died 1650)  Frans Hals (Dutch, Antwerp 1582/83–1666 Haarlem) ca. 1636–38



Wednesday, August 17, 2011

Sigmar Polke ‘Photoworks 1964-2000’ Leo Koenig


Sigmar Polke, a nocturnal artist by temperament, displays his photographic diurnal process.  Polke, who died last year and is scheduled for a 2014 Museum of Modern Art retrospective, used photography throughout his prolific career. Displaying Polke’s prodigious wit and creativity, the photographs cross reference with his paintings by cataloguing different subject matter and approaches to development and exposure. Subjects include still lives, portraits of Mariette Althaus, Polke’s girlfriend at the time, and close-ups of gold as well as mordant pictures of corpses in a Capuchian monastery in Palermo, Sicily. Similar to his paintings, Polke’s photography exhibits irreverence to the medium, intensity and warmth. ‘Photoworks’ is Polke’s first exhibition of his photography in New York City.   

Untitled (Paris, Metrostation Le Louvre)
1971
Photograph on Agfa-Gevaert Copyline Projection
11.4 x 8.3 inches (29 x 21 cm)


Untitled (Willich)
1972
Photograph on Agfa-Gevaert Copyline Projection
11.7 x 8.3 inches (29.7 x 21 cm) 
Untitled (Willich)
1972
Photograph on Agfa-Gevaert Copyline Projection
11.7 x 8.3 inches (29.7 x 21 cm)

Untitled ("Grothe-Kohle," Willich)
1972
Photograph on Agfa-Gevaert Copyline Projection
11.7 x 8.3 inches (29.7 x 21 cm)


Untitled
1969-70
Photograph on Agfa-Gevaert Copyline Projection
8.3 x 11.4 inches (21 x 29.7 cm))

Untitled
1964-68/90
Gelatin silver print
24.3 x 19.8 inches (61.7 x 50.5 cm)


Die Decke, in die sich immer wieder die Konturen einer weiblichen Figur falten (The Blanket that keeps folding itself into the shape of a woman)
1964-68/90
Gelatin silver print
23.8 x 19.9 inches (60.5 x 50.5 cm) 
Untitled
1964-68/90
Gelatin silver print
24.3 x 19.8 inches (61.7 x 50.5 cm)

Untitled (Palermo)
1976
Gelatin silver print
32.7 x 29.5 inches (83 x 75 cm)

Untitled (Palermo)
1976
Gelatin silver print
29.5 x 32.7 inches (75 x 83 cm)

Untitled (Palermo)
1976
Gelatin silver print
32.7 x 29.5 inches (83 x 75 cm)

Sunday, August 14, 2011

Roman Opalka 1931-2011


Roman Opalka, an artist whose artistic project attempted to count to infinity with painted numbers, died in France at the age of 79. Opalka, a child prisoner of war during World War II who eventually left Communist Poland, used a startling simple studio practice to highlight basic existential predicaments. Beginning in 1965 with the number one, the artist counted between 20,000 and 30,000 numbers on each canvas, or ‘detail’ of the overall studio project. During the middle of the last decade Opalka reached five and a half million and counting. To mark the termination of each canvas the artist would take a ‘self-portrait’ photograph of himself, either his face or in front of the recently completed canvas, as a reminder of the investment of time the counting required. Beginning in the 60s with white number on black background, Opalka soon switched to white numbers on a white background. Opalka painted with white acrylic paint and a number ‘0’ brush for the fine detail his work required on a four by six foot canvas.
                Ostensibly a project with roots in the European avant-garde, Minimalism and Conceptualism, Opalka’s paintings question our personal relationship with the universe. Counting to infinity is a meaningless proposal given the reality of our personal finitude. While any person can have an abstract concept of ‘infinity’, our lived reality has no frame of reference of actually experiencing such phenomena.  Infinity, by definition, is never ending and our time on earth, also by definition, is guaranteed to terminate. Opalka foregrounds our temporal existing limitations by paintings that are never ending yet created with a finite, and fading, amount of time. Opalka’s death is the only manner in which his project could successfully end. Infinity, the Universe, expands forever, while we are at best only able to mark time as Opalka has-manually, carefully- paused before our own finitude.  


Roman Opalka 1-infinity  
Fragment of Detail in progress. Acrylic on canvas, 195 x 135 cm

There was a time in which an authorization was needed from one's home country to go abroad. Inhabitants of what was then the "soviet bloc" could not use their passport freely.
Travel was only allowed for short periods and under rigorous conditions, one of which was the time frame between the request and its eventual confirmation.
If the passport was granted (which was not frequent), only more twists and complications followed when trying to get a visa to travel to a specific destination.
Afterwards, from that destination one could only travel further through a new request at the embassy of each country. Those visas depended on questionnaires, time frames, and other complications of the Cold War. If the passport was not given to the "Office of Passports" of the country three days from the agreed date, it was then confiscated.
Opalka's response to the situation described above was the "Cartes de voyage". Initiated in 1972, they allowed him not to interrupt his work when travelling in a country belonging to the Warsaw Pact. He always finished the "Detail" in work long before a possible trip and continued to inscribe the continuation of numbers in black ink, on white ordinary paper, A4 format.
Description: http://www.opalka1965.com/images/18.gif

Black and white photographs on paper, 24x30.50 cm. "... what I call my self-portrait is made of thousands of working days. Each one corresponds to a number and to a precise moment in which I stopped painting. "
Description: http://www.opalka1965.com/images/18.gif

Saturday, August 13, 2011

‘The Women In Our Life’ at Cheim and Read Gallery

             Cheim and Read’s fifteenth anniversary is celebrated with an all-female lineup in ‘The Women in Our Life’. The work on display-across mediums, disciplines approaches and concerns-constitute a mini-examination of contemporary art’s DNA. Young artists, male and female, recently graduated from their MFAs all owe at least something to one of these artists. Each artist in the show has had an important career to date. Louise Bourgeois, who died last year, became a fixture in art discourse sometime in the seventies. Joan Mitchell is fast becoming one of the most important American painters of the post war era while Linda Benglis’ career and importance climb after her retrospective at the New Museum this year.  Ghada Amer, an Egyptian by birth, and Pat Steir furthers the painterly explorations of Mitchell. Amer by combining in her work references to craft and gender politics and Steir by infusing her work with nature’s sublimity. Both Chantal Joffe and Alice Neel use painting to image the figure while Diane Arbus makes small, vulnerable photographs of her subjects. Jenny Holzer’s work uses the language of early modernism to explore the United States’ government’s authoritarian hegemony. Louise Fishman, part of the generation of painters that includes Brice Marden and Robert Ryman, deserves a retrospective to put her work in its proper context. Numerous young painters today explore painterly abstraction, and her career’s work would help clarify many questions these artists ask with their painting.
                “The Women in Our Life’ follows other recent exhibitions that use gender as a litmus test, like the MOMA’s ‘Modern Women’. Cheim and Reid’s exhibition has an advantage over other shows in that the two artistic directors of the gallery have spent considerable time and resources on each artist’s career and reputation.  Given the investment the exhibition in turn feels like a family affair, and given the quality of the work, a valedictorian speech. 

Ghada Amer
UNFRIENDING CAMELIA 2011
Acrylic and embroidery on canvas
58 x 69 inches
147.3 x 175.3 centimeters


Lynda Benglis
UNTITLED 1972
Beeswax, damar resin and pigment on wood
36 x 5 7/8 x 3 1/4 inches
91.4 x 14.9 x 8.3 centimeters 
Louise Bourgeois (1911 - 2010)
NATURE STUDY NO. 5 1995
Pink marble & steel
20 x 36 1/2 x 23 inches
50.8 x 92.7 x 58.4 centimeters

Pat Steir
WINTER GROUP 5: DARK GREEN, RED AND SILVER 2009-11
Oil on canvas
131 5/8 x 132 inches
334.3 x 335.3 centimeter

Joan Mitchell (1925 - 1992)
MINNESOTA 1980
Oil on canvas in four parts
102 1/2 x 243 inches
260.4 x 617.2 centimeters

Louise Fishman
THE MIRROR OF INK 2011
Oil on linen
39 x 66 inches
99.1 x 167.6 centimeters

Diane Arbus (1923 - 1971)
A husband and wife in the woods at a nudist camp, N.J. 1963
Gelatin silver print
20 x 16 inches
50.8 x 40.6 centimeters

Chantal Joffe
SELF-PORTRAIT IN STUDIO 2011
Oil on board
120 x 48 1/8 x 2 3/8 inches
304.8 x 122.2 x 6 centimeters


Jenny Holzer
GENERAL ACKNOWLEDGED HE ... 2011
Oil on linen
58 x 44 inches
147.3 x 111.8 centimeters
 



Alice Neel (1900 - 1984)
MARXIST GIRL (IRENE PESLIKIS) 1972
Oil on canvas
59 9/4 x 42 inches
155.6 x 106.7 centimeters